Meant For Greatness
by Never-Rebel
Summary: A short tale about a cocky Persian with the notion that she was meant to be something more, something great. Like a Legendary. One-shot. First installation of my Poké-myth Series.


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title – Meant for Greatness

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author – Toreina-Mei (a.k.a. The Dark Trainer)

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summary – A short tale of a cocky Persian with a notion that she was meant to be something more, something great. One-shot. Written as a Poké-myth. Might make a series out of this.

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You don't come across my kind often, especially in the wild. Humans – they depict us as pets. They snatch us up when we're still curious little Meowth's because we look "cute". We aren't wanted for our battling prowess, we're held at such desire for our demeanor. People seek only to prove that they can conquer our fickleness and train us through our stubbornness. 

I had surpassed my phase of "cuteness" long ago. I am divine – and I purposely attract many human admirers. It's an alluring game: allowing them to glimpse me, acting completely oblivious of them, then slipping away. I want them to reach for me, to realize that they want me, but they can't have me. No, I'm too good. I'm meant for greater design, for glory. I am superior and one day shall prove that. 

The humans who have been fortunate enough to catch sight of me have fathomed many nicknames for me. "Brown Tail" is the most common. "Wood Deity" – the actual word is "sylvan" - is something else that I have heard. "Spot", "Dabs" and "Speckles" are also names I have received, but they're much too low for my standards. I've become a sort of legend to these people, held in high revere. Good. I should be extolled. But I am neither White Tail nor Wood Deity; my name is Rysha. I was named after a mythological Persian figure: Ryuashuin, the god of prosperity and good fortune. It's a lovely name that I have. Certainly better than Tipple, some name given to a Hitmontop by its trainer. I pity the poor beast, hideous as it was. My name represented what I knew I was meant to become: a goddess. A Legendary. Yes, I had heard the tale of the Legendaries. I live in Kara, a popular area for rainless lightning storms; Zapdos fairytales are commonplace here. One day I would be accepted into Legendary ranks. It's what I lived for. 

There was a trainer in the woods today. He wasn't just passing through either; he was quite a ways off the forest path. I sat and watched him, knowing for certain that he was looking for me. I knew because he was my trainer, Glenn was his name. He wanted his famous Brown-Tailed, Spotted Persian back. Probably wasn't getting any sex from his girlfriend because he had lost me. Well come get me, child. You can try all you please, but you can't have me. I ran away for good this time.

Politoed was bouncing along, helping him search. I was thoroughly insulted. How could he expect to find a Pokémon of my caliber using such an awful creature? Especially when it didn't have any tracking skills. It would be best if he put that thing back in the water – I could already envision myself smacking it around. It vaguely reminded me of a green ball of yarn, but those things were so very childish.

A Farfetch'd few overheard, then flew to Glenn, pointing in my direction. I couldn't believe it. She and I were the only girls of the group - we had been courteous with one another, sometimes even sharing a few conversations. I couldn't be a friend to her because she was so far underneath me - too willing to put others before her own goals - but I thought I had been rather generous in allowing her to share in my company. I was rather miffed that she would betray me so readily. Loyal subject, I scoff, can't you use your own mind?

They were coming my way and I could have gotten away, but I didn't. I felt that I had to gain my freedom the proper way – by making Glenn release me. I crouched lower and slipped into the shrubbery, eyeing them carefully as Farfetch'd led him right to my hiding spot. I settled my weight onto my hind legs and leapt.

Straight out of the bushes, unfazed by the stems and leaves that scraped at my sides. I really hated having to mess up my fur like that, but I was angry. I went after Politoed first, claws slashing. It knew it couldn't match up to me. Glenn should have known that too. I was his best, after all.

I looked at Farfetch'd, growling to let her see my displeasure.

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"Traitor!" I hissed, wanting her to feel guilty.

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"What did I do?" she asked. She was trying to play innocent, and I didn't want to hear it.

I leapt at her; she was unusually small, I was well oversize. I grabbed mouthfuls of feathers, then spat them in her face. She held up her wings, trying to push me off – she even smacked me with her onion stick – but that didn't stop me. I was so much better then her too. She knew, I knew, and Glenn knew it too. She didn't act like she deserved it though, but she did. 

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"I'm not going back," I said, both to Farfetch'd and that half-wit human.

"Persian, what's wrong with you?"

I tongued the last feather out of my mouth, but kept my paws on Farfetch'd, holding her down with my weight. I looked at Glenn, my "trainer". What's wrong? You're what's wrong. 

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"Why ever would you think there is something wrong, child?" I was intentionally mocking him.

"Why are you being like this!" he shouted. He sounded a bit mad. 

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"Being like what?"

I looked down at Farfetch'd. There was an entire patch of bare, pinkish skin. She probably wouldn't be able to fly until some of her wing feathers regrew. I looked back up at Glenn. His cheeks were puffed, his knuckles were white, and there was a black hair out of place on his head that had my attention – it was bothering me.

"You attacked them!" he cried, like that explained something.

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"So?"

"Why?" he asked. 

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"Did I not just tell you? I. do. not. want. to. go. with. you. Now release me."

"No," Glenn said.

I was taken aback somewhat by that. How selfish was he?

"Candice gave you to me, I won't get rid of you. She'd hate me."

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"I hate the both of you. Now stop being a self-centered half-wit and release me. Or I'll make you release me."

He looked surprised. I had never blatantly told him how I felt for him, I thought my signs were clear enough. 

"Did you just threaten me?" he asked. 

Indeed I had, and it was a threat I intended to fulfill. Glenn brought out a Pokéball – my special red and blue one. What? Do you expect me to hop into the little Poké-prison for you? No, I think not. You can't make me this time. I sneered at him and made it very clear that that was what I was doing. There were times when the message just didn't get across, that was the difficulty with two separate languages (and then more branches of each), but he seemed to understand rather well. 

I jumped and snatched the ball out of his hand. He jerked his hand back, cradling it and looking at me as if I had just electrocuted him. So I accidentally bit his finger, I couldn't help it. The prison had been in his hand, and was now in my mouth. It tasted faintly of tree bark. And it was making my mouth water. 

"Persian," he said sternly, "give it back."

My name is Rysha. Not Persian. But this half-wit couldn't decipher half of my language, he just acted like he knew.

I shook my head. No, child. You can't have me back this time. I tongued the prison out of my mouth, bounced it up with my nose and blasted it. The little ball didn't stand a chance against a Hyperbeam – it peeled away until there was nothing left. I glanced at Glenn and was satisfied to see that he was in awe. Of me. Like he should be. He had no idea that I could do that. He didn't know anything about me other than I had spots. 

It felt good to finally walk away from him.

"Come back here. Come back here, Persian! Now!"

You and all of your faithful subjects couldn't have dragged me back. Especially not without a Super Ball to hold me captive. 

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A tale I had heard many years ago, from my mother Jovi, lead me to Dituru Mountain. The story said that Dituru was the highest peak in the world, and it also said that Zapdos resided at the top. I was skeptical, especially because the story was many centuries old, but I was determined to become a Legendary. If I confronted Zapdos, then I could find out how to obtain the status that I longed for.

Besides, I could make it to the top. I was different now – I was a Felayan. Yes, I had evolved. I was the first Persian who had ever been that powerful. Most likely, I would be the only one. That made me feel special. Like I had been chosen for grandeur, meant to live amongst the Legendaries as I had believed for two decades now. I knew that I hadn't been fantasizing, I had been following my destiny. Which is why I believed that I had to climb Dituru. After yearning for my fate for so long, I was ready to finally have it. 

Brown surrounded me: below, above, all around. Occasionally there was a bland, gray boulder sticking out of the ground, but there wasn't much life. It was somewhat disconcerting, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. I had climbed for a good many days – two weeks, I think – and found it peculiar that I didn't come across any other Pokémon. I finally acknowledged that the mountain was entirely deserted and I seriously doubted the story to have any truth to it, but I would at least have the privilege of saying that I had made it to the top – how many could say that? None, actually. Not that I knew of.

The cold air was finally getting to me; my longer, thicker coat could only protect me for so long. My nose was icy, the moisture having been frosted by the chilled air. I knew that I wasn't an attractive sight at the moment, but there was nothing to see me up here. The ground was cold too, and a dirty white. If not for my spots, I probably would have blended in completely with the snow.

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Another week went by. My stomach had ceased growling days ago. I was starving, I even felt bony, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. I was used to being a little thin, but this was appalling. I craned my neck around to lick an itch on my side - I could feel my ribs pressed out against my skin. How grossly hideous. 

There was a steep incline presented to me, almost a straight up climb. I knocked at the snow with my numbing paws – it was hard, but I didn't know if it would support me. I stared up for a long time, blank and shivering. Well, obviously nothing miraculous was going to happen.

The first few steps were relatively simple, though strenuous. My legs were almost fully buried in the snow and still my claws couldn't find solid ground to dig into. I climbed like that, slowly. I tried to quicken my pace, slipped when I punched into a softer patch of snow and tumbled down, back to the flat cliff. After that, I gazed up towards the unseen top wistfully, discouraged by one fall. I had had many on my trek, and this one made me feel totally hopeless. 

I lied there for some time, chattering in the frigid breeze and exhausted. Eventually, I forced myself up and trudged on, punching knew foot holes – and fell again. My shoulder was bruised by the second fall onto the solid snow; it wasn't as great or as soft as the humans made it seem. I lugged myself up and tried again, going slowly. I got further up, but then stopped. I was almost standing straight up – _almost_ - and felt as if I was going to fall backward at any moment. I tried to ignore the feeling, so that I didn't do that, and continued at my Slowpoke speed.

I clawed for the edge of the mountain top, thinking about how awful would it be if I fell now. I dug my hind legs into the snow, the cold biting at the skin under my nails, pulled myself up and collapsed gratefully. There wasn't anything that was going to make me move any further; but I did look up, curious. I expected to see Zapdos. And I didn't.

There was nothing. It was completely bare. A big circle of rocks – who cared? If I hadn't been so tired, I would have thrown a tantrum. The entire trip had been a waste! I had gained absolutely nothing from this. I was beyond disappointed, and rather upset. 

And very tired. A little bit of sleep would be nice. The wind picked up and made me shiver, it made me feel even drowsier. I closed my eyes, just wanting to rest them for a moment. I would get up in a minute, no, maybe an hour. It felt good to finally lie down. 

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"Foolish, Pokémon." 

My paws had gone numb, along with my tail; I couldn't feel my ears either. I opened my eyes and the usual watery stickiness on the edges of the lids had frozen over. Gross. 

The hair on my paws was standing on end and I actually felt the prickling in my back. There was static in the air, like when there's an electrical nuisance around and charging up. I looked up and jumped back immediately, my heart pounding. At least I was conscious of where the edge was and didn't go plummeting to my death. That certainly wasn't my destiny. Lightning cracked into the ringlet of stones, the thunder that followed making my ears ring. I tilted my head to the side and waited for it to stop, but never took my eyes off of Zapdos.

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"What brought you up here?" he cawed. He sounded angry. Odd – I had always imagined Zapdos as a female. 

There was no way that I was going to let my shock stop me from speaking. I tried to regain some of my dignity and stepped forward, thrusting my chin up. I didn't want to think of how horrible I looked then, I hoped he didn't think this was how I always was. Usually, I was beautiful, radiant, and even had this great regal air…

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"I was looking for you. I-" 

"What business do you have with me?" he asked. 

I didn't let his interruption bother me and continued, _"I want to know how I can become a Legendary."_

"A Legendary?"

Yes. Isn't that what you're called? 

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"I am Zapdos, the Great Lightning God."

God? I stared at him. Sparks popped from his wings and electricity ran through the air as he spoke. I felt small. _Very_ small.

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"You are common, Pokémon." 

"I am not_ common!" _I snarled. Just look at me, you half-wit. I'm the only one of my kind. 

I felt dizzy suddenly. I hoped I didn't trip and make a fool of myself.

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"If you are not a God, then you are common. Leave now, Pokémon."

"No. I can't," I said, sneering at the humbled tone I had taken on. I had never considered that I would have to go back down. _"I want to be a Legendary. God," _I corrected.

Zapdos tilted his beak up and cawed. He was laughing. At _me_. I glowered at him.

"I will help you down the mountain, but you cannot be a God," he said. That wasn't what I wanted to hear.

I crouched into attacking position; I usually looked great in that kind of stance, graceful and imposing. It would have been so easy to surprise him with Hyperbeam, but I wanted to really astound him. Hyperball was easy enough – impressive too. I wobbled as my vision started to swirl. I felt colder, weaker. I was drowsy again and yawned, letting out a ball of bright light – it wasn't hot like it was supposed to be – that wasn't controlled. It was volatile and unstable. It blew up in my face. My eyes! My gorgeous face! I shrieked, trying to claw at my eyes but not daring to, and fell back. My eyes scrunched tighter, painfully, as I clawed at the snow; I couldn't find anything to stop myself. Not this! Please!

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"Interesting that you chose death for yourself, Pokémon."

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Author's Note – I do think I am going to make a series out of this. Though, the other stories will certainly be a little happier. *shrugs* Sorry, I'm so used to these cruel, dark happenings that I just can't help myself. I'll probably be using these Poké-legends in an upcoming fic, or some of them at least.

I'm open to suggestions as to which Pokémon to use next, either as a god or commoner. This relates closest to Greek mythology, which I absolutely love. Please, please, if you are going to leave a suggestion, leave it with a review. And give me a reason too. Because I'm not simple-minded – and I like to have reviews. XD 


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